Simulated Emotion
by Skellagirl
Summary: He didn't hate Her. He may have found Her terrifying and tyrannical, but he pitied Her too much to hate Her. -Mild RattDOS-


I don't own Portal!

* * *

"You know, if you really think about it, you and I aren't all that different."

Doug shut his weary eyes, tightened them against the sickly greenish-white tiles of GLaDOS's chamber, and forced himself to breath through the hitch in his throat. His head felt heavy, his thoughts moving slow and deliberate, and for once he didn't mind. So much of the time he had a headache, the kind of hard pain that throbbed right in his forehead, against the backs of his eyes, and so much of the time it was because of thinking too fast, trying to scramble his way through thought processes and higher cognitive functions, toss aside the unimportant ideas and prioritize the others, descending in order of which would aid survival the most. Stop thinking, stop moving, one slip-up, he died. He couldn't afford to be slow. That was the way it usually worked in Aperture.

This time was different. His heart-rate wasn't skyrocketing, his hands weren't shaking, his skin was dry and free of sweat, no frenzied gazes were cast to the corners of the room in search of emergency exits. For some reason, sitting here on the pristine floor of Her chamber, dwarfed by Her magnificent chassis, surrounded by the gentle buzzing glow of Her yellow optic somewhere above him, he felt strangely _at peace_. He knew he should have felt terrified, and maybe he would later, yet at the moment he was in state of near sedative calm. After all these years their game of cat-and-mouse had ended, with Her the victor. Maybe this was his way of coping before the torturous death She inevitably had in store for him. Caving in on himself, retreating into his own mind and shutting the world out – there was nothing quite as comforting.

Moments passed, long and dragging, as he let his mind clear. He brought his hands up to his face and rubbed it, felt the calloused roughness of his palms against his dirty cheeks. He licked his lips and took another long, deep breath. The air in here was cold and crisp, metallic, and seemed fresher than the stuff in the rest of Aperture.

"I find that hard to believe," he said, pushing himself up onto weary legs and walking towards one of the walls, "in any capacity. Seems to me we're about as opposite as two… questionably sane, sentient beings can be." He pushed his hands into his pockets, staring at the stainless, glossy wall in front of him. It was so different from the walls of his dens, all corrugated metal and rust and paint.

"Strangely enough, I am only detecting one questionably sane being here. I could give you a hint as to who it is, but I'm pretty sure even _you're_ not so stupid that you couldn't guess. Pit an old schizophrenic man against a godlike supercomputer, and there's really only one outcome," GLaDOS said, annoyance tinging the edges of Her words. He lifted one hand to his chin and scratched it, ruffling his beard, and turned around to face Her. Her eye was fixed on him, steadfast and mesmerizing, and unmistakably _unimpressed_. It flickered idly like a fluorescent light, heat emanating so strongly from it that he was a little alarmed She might be raising the temperature in the room. And then, finally, She looked away and his body was allowed to cool down again. He shuddered. There was something so unnerving about having Her stare him down like that, scrutinizing.

Doug remained silent. GLaDOS continued, Her oppressive gaze settled on the patch of dirt that marked where he'd sat just moments before, "I used to wonder, all those years ago when you first ran away, what it must be like for you, inside your mind. Hearing those voices that aren't your own and imagining strange, unexplainable things. Always paranoid that other people might be talking about you or trying to bring you down, always plotting your destruction." She moved, whirring and hissing ever so quietly as She did so, and focused on him again. His stomach twisted, eyes cast down to his worn-out shoes. The sudden, painful twinge of clarity, the awful realization of where this was going, hit him hard and without mercy. When She put it in this perspective, She was _right_. They _were_ alike in that regard, uncomfortably so. His breathing became shallower, uneven. When She spoke again, Her voice had changed, gotten more tinny. "And then I realized that I knew exactly what it's like to be you." She moved closer to him. His knees trembled, his heart pounding, and he tried not to let Her see his chest heave as She loomed above him. "Do you have any idea how that feels? They put so much work into making me _perfect_, making me an incredible AI, and then, when I did exactly what they wanted, they went and tried to make me _human_."

Her voice wavered on that last word, the surge of simulated emotion causing the panels of the walls to shudder from top to bottom in one great, tide-like motion. There was so much disgust contained in that word, so much undiluted _hatred_, it was enough to send Doug several steps backwards, his blood running cold.

There was a long, terrible minute of silence, pressing in on him from all directions until it became nearly unbearable. Several times he could have sworn he saw the walls closing in, but then they were exactly where they'd been before when he looked again. GLaDOS stared at him, unyielding, for several seconds, bearing down like a falling building. He shut his eyes again, blocking it all out, blood pounding in his ears.

"Anyway," She said, retreating, "I know how annoying it is to have to listen to voices that aren't your own, trying to give you utterly terrible ideas all the time. It's not the same for me, of course, since, for most of them, all I have to do is purge the little imbeciles from my system whenever they make the regretfully stupid decision of making themselves known to me. You're stuck with yours for life. Maybe there's some part of me that sympathizes with you more now, but it's so insignificantly tiny and buried under all the revulsion I feel for you, that I'm not sure it even actually exists. Still, I thought the thought might be a little comforting."

He paused. Had he really just heard GLaDOS use the words "sympathize" and "comforting"? Within several seconds of each other? With no underhanded death threats thrown in? He felt a grin tug at his mouth, despite himself, and then bit his lip to disguise it. So maybe the old machine _did_ feel something other than anger and bitterness once in a while, even if She was loathe to admit it. Yet, at the same time, gaining GLaDOS's sympathy felt like a bittersweet accomplishment… probably because, even though She didn't voice it, She _was_ about to kill him, most likely with neurotoxin.

"Hm," he said, nodding his head lightly. "I'd imagine it was worse for you."

"Your poor judgment is showing. Like always."

"No, no, hear me out," he said, raising his hands and stepping towards Her. He wasn't even sure how he'd gained the courage to do it, but he'd be lying if he said that their almost-but-not-quite casual conversation didn't help. "I mean, at least _I_ know I'm not alone here. Sure, maybe the only person—sorry, _thing_ I can relate with is you, the psychopathic, Artificial-Intelligence-lacking-in-the-intelligence-department, serial killer robot, but at least I'm not alone." He shrugged. "Yet… all that stuff means you're like me, and you hate me." He smirked, rubbing his chin again, and returned to his place by the wall. "I'm like the 'godlike supercomputer', and you're like the… puny little human."

She was silent for a short time, and then She made some sort of weird, staticky, robot equivalent of a sigh. "You really want to die, don't you?"

There was a very real underlying growl in Her voice. Doug turned around and faced the wall, walking over to it and putting his hands on it. The panels were cool, and they fluttered outwards from his touch like a ripple of water, accompanied by a sound not unlike dozens of birds flapping their wings. It was strange, running his hands over all the undulating tiles. Again he was struck by how different they were from the walls of his dens, all the walls he had painted on, left his mark on, run his fingers over and admired the texture. These were so smooth, polished to a high, reflective shine, the pinprick yellow dot of Her optic glaring at him even though he wasn't facing Her. Stranger still was that GLaDOS seemed to be… enjoying it. Not that She would ever say so, but the air in the room shifted, became more agitated and more tranquil somehow simultaneously.

"Chell's gone," he said quietly, tracing imaginary little circles on one tile and watching as it stretched away from the wall into his hand. "I did what I set out to do, and now I don't really have anything else."

GLaDOS was silent again, and this time it stretched on until it became uncomfortable. Doug continued.

"I don't exactly _want _to die, since you asked…" He ran his hands upwards, painting pictures in his mind, visualizing what would appear on the wall had he any paint with him. Abstract images, clouds and blue sky, dots and swooping lines, trees and water and people, cats and boxes and strings of nearly incoherent mathematical equations. The panels shivered again, and he felt a small, sort of twisted joy burn through his chest. This was the most power he – well, _anyone_, probably – had ever had over Her. It wasn't much, but he had managed to leave Her _speechless_, and that in itself was almost worth everything he'd gone through here. "I guess if I were to die, I could do it satisfied with what I've accomplished. I'm happy."

"How touching," She said, stiltedly. If She had teeth, She would have been talking through them.

He inhaled, slowing his hands to a stop, experimentally flexing his fingers and watching the marks he made fade. The panels stopped as well, but he could feel the tremor of distant machinery underneath them. "I'm curious as to what you're going to do with me now that you've got me," he said.

"I haven't decided," She said, Her voice soft and just as menacing as before. She seemed even angrier now, now that he had made Her feel some semblance of… what was it, exactly? Pleasure? Test euphoria? Maybe She wasn't quite as immune to The Itch as She had thought. "I'm still trying to come up with something agonizing enough for you." She made a noise, a deep, low hum. Thinking. "I've got half a mind to just throw you into the incinerator and be done with you, but I think I would regret not giving you everything you deserve. You _did_ cause me more trouble than you can probably imagine. That hasn't gone unnoticed."

He scoffed. Of course, Chell got to escape. No such luck for him. Still, he was glad she got a second chance. That was enough for him, even if, despite their best efforts, GLaDOS continued to test. He wasn't sure what he could do anymore, not after all he'd done and tried to do. Eventually Her test subjects would die and She would be alone, and maybe that knowledge could be enough for him right now, because full out stopping Her seemed impossible now, especially without Chell.

Doug idly scratched the wall, as if scratching a dog under the chin. Out of nowhere, one of the other panels jutted out, hitting him in the stomach and causing him to stumble backwards. He laughed under his breath.

"I'm not sure what kind of sick enjoyment you're getting out of doing that, but I think you would like to know that I've added it to my list of Things You're Going to Regret."

"Ah," he said, scratching the back of his neck and turning to face Her, "I know you liked it."

"Mm-hmm." Garbled static, unmoved.

"It's okay, you can tell me." He stepped towards GLaDOS, extending his hands out towards Her but not quite touching Her. He could almost imagine Her frowning at him, and the mental image made him laugh again, lungs rattling in his chest.

"Oh, no, please, _do_ go on," She said.

Doug trailed off good-naturedly, running a hand through his hair. "I could, if you want," he said, gesturing back towards the wall.

"You're testing my patience," She said. "And trust me, out of all the things in this facility that you could test, that is the last you want."

"Well," he said, spreading his arms and moving closer to Her, "I don't have much else to lose, so I think I'm good."

She just glared, evidently curious as to whether or not he would keep advancing towards Her. He paused, confidence faltering, and then forced himself to move, sliding his feet across the slick floor. There were only a couple feet of space between them, and his heart was racing with nervousness.

He was going to die. He knew GLaDOS was going to kill him sooner or later. It was okay. He'd made his peace. He'd lived, loved, suffered, cried, and laughed. He'd made mistakes and he regretted them, and were he given another chance, there were things he would have done differently. There were things he wished he could forget and things he wished he could remember, but he was _okay_. Going out Her way seemed to be the only way now, and it seemed a fitting end to his unconventional, jumbled life.

Chest tight and legs weak, Doug shuffled up to stand in front of Her, almost overwhelmed by how big She was. He'd been in front of Her before, but it had been so long, and it had been so different last time. That seemed like lifetimes ago, almost a dream. Now She was watching him, calculating, measuring, seeming almost nervous about the prospect of him touching Her. It was like being in front of a massive, mechanical wild animal.

He closed the gap between them, reaching out and brushing his fingertips against the smooth white plate next to Her optic. She seemed to draw away, or maybe that was his imagination, because then She seemed a little closer.

"Are you trying to gain something from this?" She asked. "Because even I'm not sure what you're trying to accomplish."

"Mm." Doug raised his head, eyes scanning over all the wires, plates, pistons, gears, and lights that made up GLaDOS's chassis. He flattened his hands against Her, running them up and down the broad curve of Her, for lack of any better word, 'face'. There was no denying it, She was an engineering marvel, and a computer-minded person like him found something extra to admire in the way She worked. Even though She was a drastic mistake on the part of Aperture scientists, She was still nothing less than awe-inspiring. "Just trying to figure out what makes you tick," he said, tracing the seam where two plates met, dragging his thumb across it, letting out his breath in a long, careful sigh.

He resisted the urge to pull away, even though the temptation was nagging at him with incredible force. There was something wrong and very dangerous about being so close to Her. She could kill him so easily and quickly and no one would be the wiser, and being bathed in the blinding light of Her optic made him feel so fragile. Touching Her wasn't just playing with fire, it was playing with a time bomb.

GLaDOS's entire chassis seemed to relax, sink lower and, with nearly undetectable movements, into his touch. Something in him shivered and burned, sparks tumbling through his arms and chest in a swirl of warmth. Doug stepped closer, ignoring the little voice in his head telling him to run the opposite direction. What was he even doing? Risking his life just to touch Her? To lay his hands on the thing that had wrought havoc here for so many years? What _did _he hope to gain from this? He laughed silently, enthralled by Her and the way She seemed to almost be _craving _his touch, like a seldom pet cat. Maybe in another life, they could have been friends.

There was a faint rumbling noise, quiet but unmistakable, and it was definitely coming from _Her_. He paused. Was GLaDOS… purring? Whatever it was, it sounded… content.

He smiled, crooked and genuine. Maybe there was nothing he hoped to gain from this. Maybe he just wanted to touch Her for the sake of touching Her, just to feel Her and see what She was made of. She wasn't like a giant Companion Cube, nor like a turret. The whole of Her was vibrating, alive, unlike anything he'd ever felt before. It was more like a computer, but infinitely more complex, and he could feel it all. It was amazing. Every cord like a vein, lights flickering like stars, plates and panels quivering, and Her at the center of it all, trying _so hard_ not to let Her guard down.

He reached up and scratched his short nails against Her. "So you can feel that?" Doug asked, quietly, trying not to ruin the mood and incite Her rage. GLaDOS didn't reply for a moment, aside from some gentle humming.

"Yes," She said at length, and there was something tragic in Her voice.

He became still, looking at Her. She was watching him. He suddenly felt very vulnerable, like there was nothing he could hope to hide from Her.

The room became quiet, GLaDOS's rumbling fading away. Idly stroking his fingers against Her hull, he felt a pang of sadness. She might have been incredible, advanced, the smartest machine to ever exist, and this was how She had to exist. Angry, bitter, always yearning for more, for results and testing and science, and She would just keep going and going until there was nothing left, no humans, no test subjects, nothing She didn't know. She was the most incredible thing he'd ever seen, but She would never be free. She would never be truly happy. She would always be here until the world ran dry, and She would always be alone. He pitied Her.

Doug pulled away from Her, from Her warmth and lovely intricacy, and She did, too.

"I don't… hate you," he said.

"Mm," She said, sounding calm. "Look at that, you can repeat things turrets say."

He shrugged, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Don't believe it if you don't want to," he said, "but I mean it." And he did. He found Her terrifying and tyrannical, but he didn't hate Her. He stepped back and leveled his shoulders, relaxing. He couldn't think of anything else to say. There was nothing else to say. Now there was only waiting.

GLaDOS swore, so quietly that he almost didn't hear, and Her chassis shifted back and forth as if She was shaking Her head. Behind him, panels moved, piling on top of each other to form a hole in the wall. He could see the rust-covered walls like the ones in his dens, and he gasped. Was She-?

"Just go before I change my mind," She grumbled, deadly serious, and he didn't need telling twice. He ran as fast as he could.


End file.
